


Something Annoying This Way Comes

by itsnotlove



Series: Butt Poets Society [2]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Bottoming from the Top, Emoticons, M/M, NOW WITH NEW KINKS!, Namie not getting paid enough to clean that, OSCILLATIONS BETWEEN FLUFF AND SUPER SEXY TIMES, Other, Pocky Game, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Serious misuse of pudding, THAT ISN'T WHERE THAT SHOULD GO IF YOU PLAN ON USING THAT COMPUTER LATER, THERE REALLY IS A PLOT WE PROMISE, WE ARE SORRY BUT ALSO WE ARE NOT SORRY, an unhealthy amount of informant whining, an unhealthy amount of innuendo, android lovin', briefly but not seriously, brojobs, cute nicknames, cyber threeway, dick eat dick world, dickception, digital love, eggplants, friendly fingering, happy love triangles, jealous love triangles, mystery porn, naughty things happen to harddrives, omniscient Namie, overenthusiastic fleas, penetration pals, sassy informant lovers spats, satan loves this, sexy apologies, sexy emailing, sexy wiring, shyzaya, spontaneous hatefuckin', surprisingly professional looking naughty photos, triangle becomes a square, triangle becomes confused by unexpected addition, unconventional toy use, unexpected deception
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5332562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotlove/pseuds/itsnotlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'It's just a question of sexual exploration and awakening,' Shizuo thinks as he tries to catch his rapidly accelerating breath. What he doesn't know is that whether you are a beast, flea, or computer, differences all become the same in the eyes of orgasm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sexy Emailing 101

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LegendofMajora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendofMajora/gifts).



**_Six years earlier…_ **

  
  
  
  


**Orihara Izaya, reborn!**

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Good morning, Tsukumoya.

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Ah, what’s this? Orihara, are you being pleasant?

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** I don’t know why that’s surprising, I’m always pleasant.

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** …

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** I’m a little offended, Tsukumoya.

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** I see, you must really want something. Do you not trust me to give it to you?

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Want something? I was only looking for a good conversation~ ☆

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi** : Do you really think that you can charm me into doing whatever it is you don’t think I will do?

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Why, are you feeling charmed?

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** No comment.

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Tell me what you’d like, Orihara. You have a busy morning ahead of you, so I don’t think you have the time to play with me today.

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** A busy morning?

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Have you been looking in my calendar?

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** You already know what I want, don’t you?

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Now I’m offended. We’ve known each other for two years and you still act surprised at my capabilities.

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** You’re a pervert.

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Please don’t flatter yourself, Orihara. And remember, you’re asking me for a favour, so you should really act more humble.

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Perhaps you could call me “Tsukumoya-sama” or “Tsukumoya-senpai” when you ask?

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Oh, Tsukumoya-onii-chan! I need your help, nyan!

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** …

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Are you feeling shy?

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** You really have no shame.

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** I wonder if I made you blush! Well, it doesn’t matter. This isn’t a favour, it’s a job. I’ll pay you the regular amount for your time, and I will need you to keep me informed on what happens.

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** You must be desperate if you’re willing to pay for it.

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Are you going to do it or not?

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Do what?

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** You know damn well what.

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** I’d still like to hear you ask, Orihara.

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** …fine.

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** I need you to pretend to be me today.

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Ah, how intriguing! And why is that?

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** …because I double booked myself.

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** How awful! Well, I suppose it cannot be helped. I look forward to working as you, Orihara.

  
  
  
  
  
  


******

  
  
  


“Aren’t humans _wonderful,_ Namie-san?” Izaya said, using the same voice a parent would use when boasting about their child as he admired the new electronic lock on his front door, “Can you believe how far they’ve come with technology?”

Namie sighed and tightened her grip on her purse, resisting the urge to slap her employer with it. “Move.”

“And did you see the workmen and how friendly they were with one another? Ah, I wonder if the taller one knew that the other was being friendly with his wife as well.”

“Move.”

“What do you think they’d do if I told them? He has a fairly extensive record, so maybe he’d stab the other to death with a screwdriver!” Izaya laughed, resting his hands on his hips as he thought about the scene.

The expression on his face was far too happy for such a thought, Namie decided, and it was cutting into her Seiji time. With one fluid movement, she let her handbag slip down from her shoulder and to her hand, then swung it toward Izaya.

The informant ducked quickly, the smile on his face only widening.

“Move.”

“Are you anxious to see your dear brother? Haven’t you heard of being fashionably late? You wouldn’t want to appear as desperate as you are and put him off.” Izaya stepped out of her path as he spoke, eyes fixed onto hers, “Then again, he could probably smell it on you.”

“If he’s smelling me then I don’t care.” Namie retorted, unfazed by the provocation as she readjusted her purse. She inspected the door, taking note of the red light and LED screen that read ‘ARMED’ on the control panel next to it. “Open the door or give me the code so I can do it myself.”

“Namie-san, you can’t be trusted with the code.” Izaya laughed as he fiddled with the keypad beside the door, using his body to shield it as he typed the number 4-2-0-0-1-2-8 into it. The light on the panel turned green and the words on the LED panel changed from ‘ARMED’ to ‘UNARMED’ as the lock clicked open, allowing Namie to finally exit.

She didn’t say a word to him as she exited the apartment, the sound of her quickly tapping heels the only goodbye Izaya received. He closed the door and listened to it lock, smiling to himself as he thought about how inventive his humans could be.

They really were fascinating.

He swaggered back to his desk, feeling accomplished now that he’d annoyed Namie, and collapsed in his chair. It spun around slowly as he stretched himself out, smiling softly.

It wasn’t until the third rotation that he saw a familiar chatroom on his desktop, text appearing on the screen before he had a chance to read it. He stopped his chair and scooted forward, placing his elbows on his desk and his face in his palms as he read.

 

**Orihara Izaya, reborn!**

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Good evening, Orihara. How nice it is to see you in a good mood.

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** You must be pleased with your new door. It really is quite modern, and I know how you love modern things.

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** More than that, it seems like quite a useful prop as well.

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** I wonder what your face will look like once you’ve stopped spinning mindlessly and read my messages…Will you run to the door?

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Of course not, I’m sure you’ll smirk at me as your fingers hover above your keyboard, desperately trying to think of something witty to say.

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Well, there’s no need for that, I’m only teasing you. In fact, I’m only here to tell you that I made a new friend.

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** I’ve sent you an email with an attachment. I think it would be best for you to open it before replying to me here.

 

Izaya’s lips dipped in the corners as he read the last message, and he alt-tabbed out of the chatroom and to his inbox. Sure enough, there was an email there from Tsukumoya with an attachment. He opened it cautiously, as if something might pop out of the screen at him, and held his breath as he read.

“What…?”

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Tsukumoya, what are you doing?

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** I’m only continuing our game. I thought we should raise the stakes a little to keep it interesting.

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** There’s raising the stakes and then there’s this. This is disgusting.

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Don’t tell me you’re afraid of Shizuo, Orihara.

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Afraid? I’m disgusted.

 **Orihara Izaya:** What do you hope to gain from speaking to him?

 **Orihara Izaya:** Why would you include him in our game?

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** As I said, it’s to make things more interesting. Tricking the yakuza or our clients is child’s play, I wanted to see if I could do it with someone who knows you well.

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Then why Shizu-chan? Why not Shinra?

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** You’re sounding a little protective, Orihara. Or should I say possessive?

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Don’t worry too much. As you can see, I’m not saying anything you wouldn’t.

 

Izaya alt-tabbed again, reading another snippet of the conversation between Tsukumoya and Shizuo. He practically choked when he read further, angrily going back to the chatroom as he smashed on the keyboard.

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Why are you sexting him!

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Why wouldn’t I?

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** I’d never do that with a monster!

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** You’ve never done it with anyone, and you’re nearly middle aged. It’s about time you broke the ice.

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** I have plenty of experience!

 

 **Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Would you like me to ignore that?

 

 **Orihara Izaya:** Go to hell, I’m putting a stop to this right now.

**Orihara Izaya, confirmed dead!**

 

Izaya pushed himself away from the computer so hard that he almost rolled into the window behind him. He sprinted to the front door, a crazed look on his face, and typed in the code.

Only this time, the light didn’t turn green and it didn’t unlock.

He tried again, this time more carefully, only to get the same result.

“TSUKUMOYA, OPEN THE DOOR!” He yelled at the ceiling, thankful that he’d soundproofed the apartment so that his neighbours wouldn’t hear. He felt a little silly, talking as if Tsukumoya could hear him, but he had no doubt that he could.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the light on the keypad beside the door turn green and reached for the handle, only for it to turn red again once he grabbed it. Gripping it tightly, he took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves.

“Tsukumoya, _please_ open the door.”

He kept his eyes locked on the keypad, waiting for the light to turn green and the LED display to read ‘UNARMED.’ Within a second, the text on the screen changed from ‘ARMED’ to something else entirely, a sentence slowly moving across the panel.

 

**[ _HE WANTS YOUR EGGPLANT IN HIS MOUTH_ ]**

 

“OPEN THE DOOR!”

 

**[ _HE WANTS YOUR EGGPLANT TO VOMITFACE ALL OVER HIS SHOCKEDFACE_ ]**

 

Izaya closed his mouth tightly and leaned his head against the door. The familiar excitement he felt whenever Tsukumoya impersonated him made itself known in his stomach, and being trapped like this only made that pleasant ticklish feeling spread further throughout his entire body.

He knew that Tsukumoya was having fun torturing him like this, and he cursed himself for not taking the other informant’s abilities into account when purchasing his new security system. In hindsight, seeing the advertisement on the internet and then finding a company that could come hook it up immediately had been a little suspect.

His fingers flexed, balling his hands into fists before stretching out again as he tried to calm himself down. He shifted his head so that he could glare at the control panel beside the door, a new surge of _something_ flowing through him as he saw the message waiting for him.

 

**[** **☺** **]**

 

“Bastard.”

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


Shizuo had been playing with his new flip phone when he received the first message. It wasn’t a fancy phone or anything, but he’d set a custom ringtone for Kasuka and was bored enough to find looking at the settings mildly interesting.

He’d inadvertently managed to change the language from Japanese to English, then Mandarin, then somehow to Spanish, and almost crushed it in frustration as he swore at it.

“Fuckin’ piece of shit! If you don’t shut up and speak Japanese, I’m gonna- Oh.”

Without being touched, the phone changed back to Japanese before his eyes. He blinked at it, wondering if his mother had maybe not told him the entire truth when she said that swearing never solved anything, and flipped it shut before it changed its mind.

He leaned back on his couch and closed his eyes as his gripped the phone loosely. Technology was always a pain in the arse, but it was almost as if _this_ phone was making fun of him. He felt irritation prickle the hairs on the back of his neck and tsk’d loudly.

It was just a phone and couldn’t be teasing him. That would be insane, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.

He almost crushed it again when it vibrated, not wanting to deal with whatever idiot was texting him. His curiosity won out, however, and he flipped it open only to find a message from a number he knew but had never saved.

He took another deep breath, the scowl on his face turning feral as he opened the message sent from Izaya’s phone.

 

**[ I’m sorry. ]**

 

The phone flew out of his hands as he jumped in surprise, then became bruised and battered as he clumsily attempted to catch it again. He scrunched his eyes closed, certain that he’d misread, then opened them up to try again.

 

**[ I’m sorry. ]**

 

It had to be a trick.

He closed his phone, not bothering to grace it with a reply. It was a trap, that much he knew, because if it was from Izaya then it was _always_ a trap.

His phone vibrated again and he opened it cautiously, eyes half closed with suspicion.

 

**[ Shizu-chan, you might not believe it but I won’t say it again. In fact, please delete my earlier message. If you tell anyone I said that, I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to a dog. ]**

 

Shizuo tilted his head as he inspected the message. Something felt off about it, but it sounded like Izaya. He tried to think of something the louse could gain from apologising, but came up with nothing.

His thumb brushed against the keypad tentatively as he thought, before finally coming up with the perfect response.

 

**[ fuk u flee u peice of <poopemoticon> ]**

 

He pressed send and smiled to himself, happy that he’d learned about the tiny pictures he could utilize. That one had reminded him of Izaya immediately, with its shittiness and stupid smile. He kept the phone in his hand as he rose from the couch, making a beeline for his front window.

Peeking around the curtain, he searched the area for anything suspicious but found nothing. He sighed, still not convinced that he was safe from whatever the flea was up to, and checked all his rooms for traps.

Once he’d finished, he sat back on his couch and furrowed his brows. Izaya _had_ to be up to something, he just didn’t know what yet. He groaned in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose, imagining punching the louse in the face to calm himself down.

It worked well, as it usually did, but his annoyance spiked again when he received another message.

 

**[ I don’t think we’re at the stage in our relationship where you can proposition me, Shizu-chan, but if you accept my…what I said in the first message, then we can talk. ]**

 

“What the fuck?!”

 

**[ liSTN <poopemoticon> I DUNT WMMA FUK U !!!! <angryfaceemoticon> ]**

 

Shizuo sent the message, once again proud of his tiny-picture usage. Technology, though annoying, could certainly be useful when wanting to get a point across. His phone vibrated with another message only a minute or so after he’d sent his last one, and he almost dropped it again when he saw its contents.

 

**[ I’m not joking. I want you to fuck me, but not yet. ]**

 

Along with the message was a photo attachment, and he couldn’t take his eyes off it. It looked almost professional and definitely wasn’t taken with a phone, and Shizuo wondered why Izaya was setting up cameras to take photos of himself in the shower.

That thought was fleeting, however, and replaced with a thousand other thoughts. Lewd comments on how nice Izaya’s face looked when it was screwed up in pleasure, how sexy he seemed with his hand around his cock, and how much Shizuo wanted to lick the water off his chest and nip at his damp skin. He wondered, as he bit his lip anxiously, exactly how Izaya was stroking himself just then - hard? Fast? Rough? Slow?

What sort of noises was he making…? The only noises Shizuo ever heard were annoying, and he couldn’t quite imagine what it would be like to hear that awful lilting tone moaning, or whining, or begging or  -

He shook his head as if he could shake away the horrible mistake he’d just made by suddenly thinking such crass things about _Izaya_ , of all the miserable ticks to fantasize about.

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, a faint touch of pink rising in his cheeks, as he looked closer. It was definitely Izaya, and he only stood to lose by sending Shizuo this photograph. It could definitely be a plot of some sort, but it was looking more and more like the apology had been a ploy to get Shizuo’s dick in his ass.

 

**[ Did you like it? Are you jerking off? ]**

 

The next message made his dick twitch, and though he was still wary, he couldn’t help but play along.

 

**[ WERE DO U WAN MY <eggplantemoticon> ???? ]**

 

He covered his face with a hand after sending it, hoping to God that this wasn’t a trap.

 

**[ Ass first, finish on my face, and call me a slut. ]**

 

It had been a long time since Shizuo had done anything sexual, which is probably why he had no problems sexting the man he had claimed to hate for all of his adult life. After all, the dick wants what the dick wants.

 

**[ wiL U <surprisedfaceemoticon> <tonguepokingoutemoticon> wEn I <vomitemoticon> <eggplantemoticon> ??? i wanNa C U <musicalnotesemoticon> <santaemoticon> wen u swallow ]**

 

He sent the message, a small smile on his lips as he thought about blowing his load all over Izaya’s face. Another thought popped into his head as he fantasized, and he sent another message quickly.

 

**[ I WANT U 2 ASK 4 It an saY plS … anD 2 SAY SRY AGAAN WEN U EAT IT ]**

 

His free hand rubbed his half hard dick through his pants as he sent the message, getting more and more turned on as he thought of Izaya begging him for a facial and then asking for forgiveness as he licked it all up. Letting out a shaky breath, he knew that he might actually murder Izaya if this was all a trick.

 

**[ Okay. ]**

**[ But will you spank me and dominate me? I want to be your little bitch, Shizu-sama. ]**

 

“Shit, Izaya,” he groaned, pressing the zipper of his pants into his aching hard on, knowing that the pressure alone wouldn’t nearly be enough.

 

**[ I’ll even wear a skirt for you and say “nyan, nyan!” ]**

**[ lisTEN IS THIS A JOKE??? I HAVE THAT FOTO SO IT betta noT BE LouSE ]**

 

Despite his threat, the idea of Izaya being that submissive made him almost lose his mind. After years of chasing him, he could finally catch him and show him exactly who the dominant one was.

 

**[ I want you to come over and lick pudding out of my ass. Not now…but later. Put it in deep and slow while you spank my pudding soaked pucker and call me a troglodyte.]**

 

This message had another photo attachment, this time of Izaya finger-fucking himself in the shower, and Shizuo once again wondered how he could manage to take such professional looking photographs. He also wondered how Izaya was managing to send messages to him in the shower, but fuck if he cared.

He freed his cock from his pants, almost ripping them in the process, and pumped it a few times. He gripped the base of it tightly, making it swell and leak even more, and took a photo of it. He figured it would be okay to send, given that his face wasn’t in the picture, and attached it to a new message.

 

**[ thatS SIK FLEE BUT OK…U TROLL DYKE WANNA RIDE MY <eggplantemoticon> ????? I SENT PIC tell me WHAt U thiNk ]**

 

Stroking himself as he waited, he decided that Izaya was one kinky bastard if he wanted to have pudding shoved up his ass. But Shizuo liked pudding, and would probably eat him out anyway if Izaya begged for it using that whiny voice of his, so it wouldn’t be a _terrible_ combination.

 

**[ I want to ride it, Shizu-sama. Will you call me names while I shove your member in and out of my tight sex? ]**

 

Shizuo could _feel_ his cock deflate slightly as he read that, wondering what the hell Izaya was on about. He’d always assumed the other man had more experience than he did, but he was really shitty at this.

What was this member nonsense? This wasn’t some club, this was his rock hard cock Izaya was going to be taking like the little bitch that he was!

 

**[ is tHIS UR 1ST Teim sxc emailing??? CAll it COC or DICK OR ass or sumthing. LIKE ME SHUVING MY hard COck in2 UR tiGHT ASS SO HarD AND FAsT U WON B ablE TO sit 4 a week. Or call it <eggplantemoticon> ]**

 

Shizuo stared at the screen, waiting impatiently for a reply. He hadn’t wanted to scold Izaya, but he couldn’t get off on shitty words like that either. Two minutes went by and he started to give up hope of ever getting a reply, deciding to focus more on his own erection than Izaya’s. He spat on his hand, too lazy to find his usual lotion, and gripped his cock tightly, thumbing the slit oozing with thick strands of precum.

He stroked himself roughly, eyes slipping closed as he thought about fucking Izaya from behind. He wanted to watch as his dick was swallowed by what he now imagined to be a virgin asshole, wondering how it would feel as Izaya tightened around him, screaming and crying for his massive cock while he branded thousands of possessive marks into his dumb, smooth? (probably) skin.

Imagined how pretty the bruises would be imprinted deep around those porcelain hips and across supple thighs and especially around his stupid, lithe neck while his movements around himself quickened, getting more desperate. He wished, wished, _wished_ he could have been there in the shower with him earlier, punishing him by relentlessly driving into him over and over until he cried for more, but also begged for it to end.

Thought about the jagged bite marks and hickeys dotting every bit of flesh he would manage to break beneath his unrelenting teeth as his now drenched hand danced up and down, harder, faster - if that was even possible.

He was close, very close, when his phone vibrated again, and he didn’t stop pumping himself even as he opened the message. There were no words, only a photo attachment, and he came hard with a sharp cry and a harsh jerk of his hips as soon as he saw it, Izaya’s name unfortunately tearing from his lips. Izaya was still in the shower, only now there was cum spurting from his dick and all over the walls beside him, face scrunched in pure bliss and goddamn it, it just had to be _beautiful_.

It was an action shot, really, taken midway through what looked to be a spectacular climax, and Shizuo finally dropped his phone, dazed and too exhausted to really think much about what he’d just done. His entire body shook, an aftershock surging through him and emptying his balls completely. He fell to the side, landing on the rest of the couch and curled himself up slightly.

His eyes slipped closed before he could pull up his pants, and he fell into a very content sleep.

  


**

  


Izaya had long since given up on escaping his apartment, and after taking a longer-than-usual shower (to supposedly wash away his disgust at being Tsukumoya’s prisoner), he sat in his computer chair pouting. Tsukumoya had only shown him snippets of the conversation he was having with Shizuo, and had refused to share any more until “the right time.”

Whatever that meant.

Frustrated and feeling impatient, Izaya clicked his mouse aimlessly, making squares on his desktop as he sighed.

 

**[ Stop that. ]**

 

The words popped up on the screen, forcing a smile on Izaya’s face. He clicked again, this time dragging the icons on his desktop around as he did.

 

**[ I said stop. ]**

 

Izaya laughed, sounding almost manic as he replied. “You can hear me through the microphone, correct?” His voice lowered slightly, lips curling around each word he spoke dangerously. “Tell me, Tsukumoya- _senpai,_ do you want me to stop because it feels good?”

 

**[ No, I’d like you to stop because I’m trying to show you my conversation with Shizuo. ]**

 

“Li-ar.” The lesser informant teased, “Why can’t you show me using the same method you are to communicate with me now?”

 

**[ If you keep misbehaving, I won’t show you this photograph. Ah, on second thought, maybe seeing it from a distance will be a punishment. ]**

 

Izaya tilted his head slightly to the side, mocking words forgotten as his curiosity was piqued. He was about to ask what the subject of the photograph was, but the words died on his tongue as a photo of an enormous dick being held by calloused fingers filled his screen.

He flushed, neck and face tinged red, as he tried to act nonchalant. He licked his lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry, before managing to croak out a response. “S-So what? I have one, and if you’ve seen one then you’ve seen the-”

 

**[ It’s Shizuo’s. ]**

 

“Wh...Wha-?”

 

**[ Let me show you what he’s been saying to “you,” I’m sure you’ve been eager to read it. ]**

 

Before Izaya could respond, a series of screenshots appeared on his screen, causing all the blood in his body to suddenly rush south. He swallowed heavily, suddenly all too aware of the feel of his tight pants chafing his thighs and just barely brushing his dick as he crossed his legs and read the text without blinking.

 

**[ From Shizuo ]**

**plZ IZAyA-NII, lEt me succ ur <eggplantemoticon>**

 

**[ From “Orihara” ]**

**Address me properly, whore.**

 

**[From Shizuo ]**

**IZaya-nii-sama, plES PUT IT IN MY <suprisedfaceemoticon>**

 

**[ From “Orihara” ]**

**And then what? Do you expect me to be satisfied with just that? I should whip you for your lack of creativity.**

 

**[ From Shizuo ]**

**-PICTURE ATTACHMENT-**

**PLEASE WHHP MY DIK ITS HRD 4 U PLS**

 

**[ From “Orihara” ]**

**What’s in it for me?**

 

**[ From Shizuo ]**

**fUCK MY TIGht whOR ASS MAstEr pls cUM IN ME iLL EAT UR ASS PLS lET ME <tongueemoticon> FYCK UR ASS**

 

The messages went on for a little while, slowly becoming more and more graphic. There were several photographs attached, starting with the slightly blurry photo of Shizuo’s burgeoning erection, then several more professional photographs of Shizuo jerking off on his couch, abs rippling and body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Izaya wondered briefly how Shizuo had managed to afford a tripod and camera, but brushed the thought aside.

There were more pressing matters, such as the dick straining painfully against the metal fly of his pants.

His breath hitched, voice unnaturally high as he spoke, “Tsukumoya…c-could I have some time alone now?”

 

**[ Did you enjoy my impersonation that much? Perhaps you like it when I’m you more than you think. ]**

 

Izaya caught the groan in his throat before he verbalised it, but he couldn’t quite stop the quiet rumbling. He absolutely did _not_ get off on Tsukumoya pretending to be him, and he didn’t get off on pretending to be Tsukumoya either. He just enjoyed power and tricking his humans, that’s all, and there was nothing wrong about that.

“Pervert.”

 

**[ You’re the one with the ere- ]**

 

Izaya turned off the monitor before the last word was typed, but could almost hear Tsukumoya cackling. Without a care, he turned his chair around and faced his window, swiftly yanking down his pants and grabbing his cock tightly.

He gasped a little, overly sensitive from his shower session as he gingerly worked his fingers over his length and rubbed his ass into the chair, enjoying the feel of his sore hole against the harsh friction of the seat. An image flashed in his head - Shizuo bent over just so and gripping his dick, face locked in a stunning expression Izaya had never seen before, and in a flash he was in his fantasy - that hard cock sinking harshly into him, those calloused fingers pulling his hair and digging into his asscheeks and...

Izaya almost paused in his movements - that couldn’t have been right. He arched upwards, grunting softly as he tried to imagine it the other way around - yeah! Shizuo positioned on all fours, spread wide and inviting, perfect and tight and there for him to punish repeatedly with his cock for being such an insufferable _monster_.

He’d been just rough enough earlier to leave a dull ache in his ass that trilled up his spine when he slammed himself down, shamelessly grinding against the chair.  Fantasy Shizu-chan was pleading for more, calling him the best informant ever - _‘Yes, you’re the greatest, Izaya-sama. Please put Ootoro in my ass and let me lick your boots while you call me your little bitch ’_ to be exact -  and Izaya felt his heart pick up speed, blood rushing in a dizzy euphoria in his veins on a power trip so great he swore he even blacked out for a moment. That coupled with his hand moving faster, pressing harder around the tip and then down his shaft had him cuming instantly all over the glass in front of him, splattering thick, milky globs of his seed as a distinct and very loud incriminating moan of ‘S-Shizu-chan!’ flew from his mouth and echoed around his empty apartment.

He flopped backward into his chair, pants still undone as his softening cock sat on top of his thigh looking sad. The apartment was silent, save for the sounds of his heavy breathing and the front door unlocking.

Laughing quietly, he tucked himself back into his pants and stood on shaky legs before walking over to the couch. He collapsed onto it, muttering an incoherent obscenity as he made himself comfortable.

Closing his eyes, he used a hand to wave goodnight at the room, then promptly fell asleep.

 


	2. Pasta la Fleasta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks! Flash forwards! [Present day, present time! Ahahahaha!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NfjsLmya1PI)

**_3 weeks later..._ **

  
  


“Shizu-chan, w-wait - “

 

“No, fuck you, Izaya! You never waited when I asked you, so why should I stop pelting this spaghetti at your dumb ass face?” Shizuo yelled, throwing huge globs of spaghetti at an alarmingly faster and faster rate. Izaya ducked, genitals flapping obscenely as he scrambled to get behind the overturned table again. “Please, give me one good reason why I should stop before obliterating you with this fancy, classic Italian dish!”

 

Izaya cupped a hand around his mouth so he could carry his voice properly from behind his makeshift shield.

 

“I thought you would look good like that, you know, legs spread wide and some bread sticks shoved up -”

 

_ Whoosh! _

 

Izaya flinched as a huge wad of noodles soared over the table and just barely grazed his shoulder. When they made a heavy, squishy impact on the floor in front of him, sauce instantly splattered onto his bare skin in a startlingly similar way to blood on a dead body during a crime of passion (and honestly if he didn't stop Shizuo soon that  _ could be _ the very grim reality). He grimaced and licked sauce off his upper lip, mildly annoyed that it was rather cheap tasting considering how expensive the pasta had been at the restaurant.

 

“Well you thought wrong, asshole! Plus, why would anyone ever, ever do something like  _ that,  _ let alone enjoy it?!”

 

_ Splat! Bang! Craaack! _

 

Izaya blanched as part of the table exploded - noodles, sauce, and bits of splintered wood following in its wake. Shizuo was surely stepping up his game, but really, they hadn't bought  _ that  _ much pasta. As long as he could buy some more time, Shizuo would eventually run out and then he'd automatically be the winner. He rolled over so that he was out of the line of fire through the hole, wrinkling his nose as he thought about all the places he was not looking forward to scrubbing sauce from on his body later.

 

“...I was gonna say your nose, Shizu-chan, don't be a pervert!”

 

“The fuck? How is that any better?!” Shizuo growled out, reloading his palms with more of the sticky weapon and chucking them forcefully over his own shield, which was the refrigerator.

 

“How isn't it better? Would you  _ rather  _ have them up your - “

 

“Ugh, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! You never even answered my question. What does that have to with anything?! I said one good reason why I  _ shouldn't _ , not tell me some stupid inside joke only you would understand!”

 

Shizuo then broke into a sudden fit of laughter for the next 30 seconds, causing a confused Izaya to raise his head cautiously to peek over the edge of the table. Shizuo sighed when he finally stopped, trying to catch his breath. He caught Izaya glaring at him and smirked.

 

“Ha, get it? 'Cause you got no friends.”

 

Izaya frowned and flipped him off.

 

“...I'm not even going to dignify that with a serious response.”

 

“Too bad you won't have time to say anything else anyway! I was  _ really _ looking forward to hearing more bullshit.”

 

Izaya tilted his head curiously, and before he could realize his grave mistake of leaving himself open, it was too late.

 

Spaghetti whizzed directly into his face so fast that Izaya didn't even have time to blink. Shizuo must have had an extra secret stash somehow. He reeled back, leg extended for a moment as he tried to center his balance on his knees and struggled to see. While he was too busy trying to wipe the glob of mush off his face and thinking about planning revenge for such a betrayal, Shizuo took the opportunity to fling another pasta-bomb. This time, it was thrown with such force that Izaya quickly lost consciousness and immediately keeled over, face first into a nearby cold dollop of marinara.

 

It was Shizuo's victory. His sweet, sweet, garlicky victory.

 

“Sweet, I win. Guess I gotta do the thing to make it official.”

 

Shizuo smiled wide, licking sauce off his finger victoriously, a swagger in his step as he sauntered over to the now unconscious pest. He leaned down close to Izaya's inert body, mouth positioned next to his ear. He drew in a deep breath.

 

“Pony! Pony, pony, pony, pony!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, screaming 'pony' over and over until he was sure their mysterious guest was fully satisfied. Maniacal laughter quickly replaced his shouts as he sank to his knees, exhausted.

 

“Pasta la vista, Flea,” he whispered as he ran his hand shakily through Izaya's sauce clotted hair, eyes wild as he continued to giggle for quite some time.

 

From his end of things, Tsukumoya could only observe in his typically silent fashion, although if one were paying closer attention, they would have noticed the slight surge in power in the apartment, lights flickering on and off several times before they blew out completely on the grisly scene.

  
  
  
  


_**_

  
  
  
  
  


**_Four years earlier…_ **

 

 

Orihara Izaya was what some would call a thrill seeker. He was always looking for ways to test his limits, to push himself harder, and to see just how close he could come to death. He, of course, didn’t see his behaviour as something so obvious, and would tell you that he was only bored should anyone think to ask why he acted the way he did.

It’s for that reason that, after two years of playing his impersonation game with Tsukumoya, he wanted to spice things up a little. He still felt a thrill whenever Tsukumoya impersonated him, often watching live as it happened, but he found himself hungry for something more.

Which is why he’d gone to great lengths to acquire business cards from someone who did not own a computer, telephone, and was illiterate when it came to modern devices. They weren’t the best quality, with some of the hand printed ink smudging ever so slightly, but they would work.

He’d spoken to some of his younger friends, female mostly, and had learned all sorts of useful ways to use cosmetics. With some contouring, creative use of hair spray, and the surprising discovery of talent, he had made himself almost unrecognisable.

He bounced out of the hotel room he’d booked for the weekend- using cash and a fake name, so as to avoid detection- and into the streets of Ikebukuro. It was dark, which only added to his disguise, and he moved throughout the streets happily.

He felt dangerous and sneaky as he made his way to the meeting place, a combination that sent shivers down his spine and caused a strange feeling to bubble in his stomach, and wondered why he’d never done this before.

It didn’t take long for him to reach the dirty looking bar, walking inside as if he owned the place. He looked out of place with his expensive business suit, but no one spared him so much as a glance. The few patrons obviously well aware of the establishment’s reputation and unwilling to start any unnecessary fights.

He sat down on a stool and spun himself around twice, not noticing the vibration in his pocket until the second rotation. Izaya pulled out his phone and leaned on the counter top, barely managing to hide his laughter when the bartender asked what he’d be having.

“What do you recommend?” He asked in a flirty tone, masking his voice slightly.

“Me? Uh…” the blonde behind the counter scratched his head as he thought, “I don’t really drink.”

“What a pity. I was thinking about having a Leg Spreader, but I don’t think I’ll need the help. Sex On My Face is always good, but I might just settle for a Blow Job.”

The blonde bartender’s mouth opened and closed as his cheeks went red, the next sentence tumbling out of his mouth rapidly. “H-Hey! We’re n-not that sort of bar! I mean, I’m… After I finish, then… I’m working so I can’t! And I don’t wanna get paid for that!”

Izaya licked his lips and grinned, leaning closer to what was once a coherent bartender as he interrupted, “A Blow Job is a drink, Bartender-san. Unless you’re making me an offer?”

The blonde’s blush darkened as his eyes darted around the room nervously, cute stuttering noises escaping despite himself.

“Are you shy? I’m sorry, Bartender-san. I promise I won’t  _ tease _ you anymore if you tell me your name.”

The bartender swallowed, trying to ignore how the provocative way Izaya was speaking was conjuring filthy images. “H-Heiwajima Shizuo.”

“Shizuo-kun…” Izaya smiled, reaching out a finger to run circles along the bar directly in front of Shizuo’s waist, “My name is Tsukumoya Shinichi. If that drink is too filthy for you, I’ll be willing to swallow  _ anything else  _ you give me.”

Shizuo’s eyes were trained on the finger moving in front of him, but they slowly moved up toward Izaya’s lips, which just so happened to be sucking on the tip of his other finger. The men stared at each other for some time, as if discussing whether they should fuck on the bar or behind it, when they were rudely interrupted.

“Tsukumoya-san, I’m sorry I’m late!” An older man said as he took the stool beside Izaya, effectively ending the conversation. Shizuo shook his head quickly and took the other man’s order before walking further away than necessary to make it.

The new man looked around the bar anxiously, loosening the cheap tie of his ill-fitting suit, “I feel as though I might be mugged! I wish you had chosen somewhere safer, Tsukumoya-san.”

Izaya almost rolled his eyes at that as he crossed his legs. He was thankful that not only did the dim lighting hide his now half-hard erection, but that the irritating chatter of “his” client seemed to make it shrink.

“Kato-san, if we had met somewhere more respectable then we would not have been able to speak so candidly.”

Shizuo returned with their drinks and gingerly placed them on the bar in front of them, eyes burning into Izaya’s. Izaya sent him a flirty smile, as if to reassure him that this was a business meeting and not a date, before returning his attentions to the other man.

“I did the work that you requested, but I was hoping you would answer a question of mine before I hand it over.”

“S-Sure, but…” Kato lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned more closely to Izaya, “Should we be talking in front of him?”

Izaya didn’t bother to lower his voice at all as he replied, knowing Shizuo was too busy watching his wet finger trace the rim of his glass to hear any of the conversation, “I can assure you that nothing will be repeated.”

Kato nodded and leaned back, sending Shizuo one last cautious glance before agreeing to answer Izaya’s question.

“How did you recognise me just now?”

“Oh.” A look of confusion passed over Kato’s face, “You sent me a picture, remember? I got it jus’ before I walked in.”

Izaya’s face didn’t change with this information, but he stopped moving his finger. He shot a particularly violent look at his phone, which he’d just now realised had conveniently stopped vibrating once he’d started speaking with Shizuo, before fixing a pleasant smile on his face.

“Indeed, and I’ll have to watch you delete that now, if you don’t mind. This meeting was a formality, I’m afraid, and your order has already been sent to your email.”

Kato complied quickly before scurrying out of the bar, his drink still untouched. Izaya turned to face Shizuo with a small sigh, happy to see that the blonde was still watching him with an expression that promised an incredibly pleasurable evening.

“Shizuo-kun, I’m sorry I haven’t tried your drink yet,” he said, dipping a finger into the glass and swirling it around. Pulling it out, he brought his dripping finger to his lips, sliding it slowly into his mouth until he hit the knuckle. His tongue swirled around the digit lewdly, making a series of wet noises followed by a loud popping sound once he removed it.

Shizuo stared at him hungrily and leaned toward him slowly, causing Izaya’s erection to come back with a ferocity that he didn’t think possible. Izaya licked his lips and raised himself off the stool a little, eyes wide and mind empty as he tried to close the distance.

Shizuo stopped suddenly, eyebrows knitting in irritation and confusion and forcing Izaya’s heart to beat wildly. Why had Shizuo stopped? Had he been recognised? Why did he think that Shizuo stopping was a bad thing? Why was he  _ so fucking hard _ ?

The blonde sniffed the air a few times, the vein on his forehead throbbing with the realisation that the Flea was nearby. He could smell him, somewhere close, but couldn’t see him just yet. He pulled a pen from his pocket and messily scrawled a telephone number onto a napkin, then placed it gently in Izaya’s hand.

“Call me…y-you know, if you aren’t busy later or somethin’.”

 

"But…” Izaya drawled with a whine, putting on his best pout. He lowered his voice an octave, drumming his fingers on the bar as he tilted his head. “My cocktail...don't you want to cock my tail?"

 

“I, uh…” Shizuo shot him a strange look, though his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “Shit, I’m really, really sorry, but I’ve got to, uh...take out some horrible, disgusting trash. It’s really important, you know, I can’t have the smell stinkin’ up this place.”

Izaya barely had a chance to process what Shizuo had said before the man vaulted the bar and bolted outside, desperately searching for his flea.

Exhaling the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, Izaya’s phone vibrated once again. He snatched it off the countertop angrily, unlocking it to find several messages.

**[ Good evening, Orihara. You’re looking quite different tonight, are you going on a date? ]**

**[ Ah, it was just a joke. We both know you can’t find a date, but that’s no reason to ignore me. ]**

**[ Kato seemed quite happy to see how “I” looked. You best be careful on your way out, he might be waiting for you with a bouquet and some chloroform. I’m sure you would have noticed the way he was looking at you had you not been so distracted. ]**

**[ Orihara, are you planning on sending “me” home with Shizuo tonight? I’m not sure “my” ass can take such a pounding, so make sure you ask Shizuo to be gentle. ]**

**[ Oh my, this is amusing. You’ve been cock-blocked by yourself. Well, you always have the hand-held shower head at your hotel. ]**

Izaya didn’t bother to reply, the messages doing nothing to better his mood (or help his erection). He shoved it into his pocket angrily, along with the napkin Shizuo had given him, and stood up. After taking a moment to adjust his pants, he slipped out of the bar and back to his hotel room to take Tsukumoya’s advice.

After all, that had been the plan all along. He definitely wouldn’t have fucked a monster.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Shizuo woke up sticky and confused, his muscles aching after sleeping in such an uncomfortable position. He groaned, partially out of irritation and partially at the incredibly graphic images still circling his thoughts after a particularly erotic dream, and opened his eyes.

 

The first thing he felt was disgust, but that was more at the sight of fresh semen pooling on his stomach atop the now crusted remains of the first batch than anything else, and he decided that he’d need a shower before he could even  _ think  _ about what had happened the day before.

 

He stood shakily, yawning loudly as he took a step toward the bathroom. He’d unfortunately forgotten that his pants were currently around his ankles, however, and fell noisily onto the ground. 

 

“ _ Izaya-kun... _ ” he growled, instantly blaming the informant for his stumble. He pushed himself off the ground and kicked off his pants, wincing at how much he wished that a certain someone was helping him with the task. 

 

“Fuckin’ asshole.”

 

He eventually made his way into the bathroom, undressing the rest of himself before stepping into the shower. He didn’t bother to put the hot water on, instead relishing in the way the cold water seemed to make him feel clean.

 

His thoughts kept drifting back to his dream, which seemed to be based on the photographs he’d been sent, and Shizuo found it difficult to get his mind focused onto anything else. He could almost taste the sweat running down Izaya’s neck as he drilled into him from behind, the informants body pressed against the wall as his feet dangled about an inch above the ground.

 

He’d pulled out and flipped him around, muscular legs snaking around his waist and dragging the blonde closer, a gasp turning into something more animalistic as he plunged himself back inside Izaya’s likely bruising hole.

 

The cold water of the shower did barely anything to stop Shizuo’s thoughts, forcing him to instead bang his head against the tiles. He hit the wall with enough force to shake it, but not enough to create another hole, which was a small blessing in itself. If only it had helped him shake these thoughts, he might have even felt something close to happiness. 

 

Deciding to avoid his fantasies altogether, Shizuo roughly cleaned himself and exited the shower, not bothering to dry or wrap a towel around himself. He’d always liked air drying, and it seemed to help him get his thoughts together. Despite popular opinion, Shizuo didn’t think he was  _ that _ much of an idiot (even if he did get poor grades in school), and he was certain he could figure this out. 

 

After making himself an extra sweet and extra weak coffee, he sat on his couch and sipped at it as he thought. He didn’t think that what Izaya had sent was a trap, as he had photographic evidence of the human equivalent of literal bull shit enjoying himself in the shower. Izaya wouldn’t send him that if he was planning on using Shizuo’s texts against him, as his reputation seemed to be something he cherished. 

 

Which meant that Izaya really  _ did  _ want to have Shizuo mercilessly screw him until he couldn’t walk straight. It also meant that Shizuo could shoot his load all over the informants face, and listen as he begged for more-

 

“Shit!”

 

Shizuo took another sip of coffee, missing his mouth slightly and sending some of it onto his bare thighs. He winced more out of reflex at the sensation, reaching for the tissue box beside him to wipe at it. 

 

“Should’ve remembered that last night...”

 

He sighed heavily once he was done, tossing the used tissue on the ground in front of him. He needed to find a way to get into Izaya’s ass without making it look as though he wanted to get into Izaya’s ass.

 

Scowling at his solution, he placed his half empty mug on the ground beside the couch and picked up his phone from where he’d dropped it. Opening up his messages, he typed in a quick message and sent it before he came to his senses. 

 

Maybe, just maybe, if he sent a nice text to Izaya, he could convince him to make his fantasy a reality. 


End file.
